EnglandxIreland
by sugarhuney3
Summary: Rape and smut contained. I hope you like! Based in the early... centuries... You know, at that time when England was fighting with Ireland and crap. Sucky summary, I know, and I'm sorry. Just read it, the story's better than the summary, I promise.


**A/N: Reuploaded because of so many(3) requests! I hope you guys like!**

**Invisibleamericanhamburgers: AWWW! You're so sweet! I love how people are taking a liking to my Ireland! Thank you so much! And, I'm going to get straight to work on one of the fanfics you requested right after this has been posted!**

**This is an EnglandxIreland smut fanfic. The setting is basically from around the late 1800s and early 1900s. You know, when England had power over Ireland, and they were fueding and stuff. Ireland, in this story, is being forced to serve England as her payment for losing one of the battles.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**WARNING! This fanfic contains incest, smut, an abusive younger England, bondage, basically what you would consider rape, and a helpless and somewhat depressing younger Ireland.**

**/ / /**

Ireland glared at the frilly french maid outfit that hung on her door frame. The fact that France had lended it to England only gave her another reason to hate him.

England, of course, was forcing her to wear the stupid, frilly, exposing dress while she worked for him.

Ireland shook her head and smiled bitterly. "This is just like Rome, all over again... Well, except this time I actually get a room instead of a cage, I don't get to bathe, and I haven't been raped yet." She mumbled.

There was a knock at the door to her room.

"Come in." Ireland ordered.

It was one of England's other servants. One of his human servants. She looked nervous... Well, that wasn't exactly unusual.

"Uh, Lord England demands that you get dressed and arrive downstairs immediately, ma'am. H-he said he needed something, and that he only wants you to help him." The maid said.

Ireland growled inwardly, but put on a sweet smile for the nervous maid. "Don't let that British bastard scare you so badly. It's only the nations that meet his wrath." She said comfortingly. "Tell England I'll be down there in ten minutes at the most, please."

The maid nodded and left the room. Ireland could tell that she felt a lot more confident due to her comforting words.

Ireland cast another glare at the frilly maid's outfit, then took it off of the door frame and started working out how to get it on.

/ / /

It ended up being too big and too small in all the wrong places. Ireland hated the flimsy thing with all her heart.

She slipped on the tights and the fancy, uncomfortable shoes that came with the dress, then grabbed her duster and awkwardly stomped downstairs.

/ / /

England looked very bored. He sat on his throne with his chin on one of his hands and his other hand drumming on the armrest. His legs were crossed, mostly to cover up the lump forming in his pants, and his hat was starting to fall off of his head.

Finally, he heard Ireland coming down the stairs. He could tell it was Ireland because no servant he had owned heels or walked that loudly. He was rather amused with his older sister's awkwardness in fancy clothing.

Ireland stepped out into England's line of vision. England couldn't help but admire her beauty, no matter how awkward and dirty she was.

Her long orange hair was unbrushed, but it didn't look tangled. Just somewhat curly. The dress hugged her around the chest, making her breasts seem a little large. The bottom of the dress ended just low enough so that her panties wouldn't be seen when she was standing, but if she bent over even a little, they would become visible to everyone. England (secretly) had a fetish to black tights, just like the knee-highs she was wearing now. The fact that she had the heels to go with them only made England feel even more aroused. Her dirty face made the dress look even better on her, and added to the effect. The little lacy headband she wore somehow brought out her icy green eyes. England, also having a slight attraction to sadism, found himself getting even _more _aroused when he saw the cuts and bruises on her arms and face. England could already feel himself losing control. He wanted to do this so very badly... **(A/N: Yes, made that tight fetish thing up.)**

"You needed me?" Ireland asked. England could tell that she was very irritated. Probably with the fact that her normally graceful self was made clumsy with heels, or by the fact that she had to wear something as revealing as that dress.

"Ah, yes. Yes I did." England said.

All was quiet for a few seconds. Ireland made a rolling motion with her wrist. "And you needed me because..." She started off for him.

"Mmm... I needed you because... Well..." How could he say this in the most gentlemanly way possible? It was probably best to just come out with it. "The thing is, I'm extremely horny." England finished, doing his best not to blush and succeeding.

Ireland's face, of course, turned a deep red. The very mention of sex or the male or female regeneration parts made her blush uncontrollably. It was no surprise when Ireland started stuttering and yelling out of pure embarrassment.

"W-why would you say that?! I thought you w-were all about b-being a gentleman! A-and how am I supposed to help you out with that?! I thought men h-had a way of taking care of th-their own problems!" Ireland babbled.

"Yes, we do, but as I have control over you... I wanted to do something that would be more pleasureable to me than simple masturbation." England said in a carefree tone.

Ireland turned a darker red. "I'm not going to have sexually please with my worst enemy. The fact that you're my brother isn't helping my descision." She said.

"Oh, but you see, Avery... you _have _to do as I say. It's part of your penalty for losing that battle, don't you remember?" England asked.

Ireland crossed her arms and looked away.

England got out of his chair and grabbed Ireland's arm roughly. He dragged her to his bedchamber, stripped her, then lay her down and tied her to the bedposts.

He hadn't gotten through that as easily as he planned though. Ireland had fought him all through the process. England now had a few bruises and scratches, but at least those would be worth the pleasure soon to come.

He quickly stripped himself of all raiment.

"Arthur, you _bast£n! _You _bod_! You _pikie_!" Ireland spat out. **(A/N: Translations found at the end.)**

England just smiled. "Ah, The fiesty ones might just be the best. They always last the longest, as I believe the rumors go." He said aloud, and stood next to her. He put his erection next to her mouth and demanded she suck him off.

"If you bite me, you'll regret it." England told her, killing all of Ireland's hopes. England then forced his length into Ireland's mouth.

He could tell Ireland was trying her hardest not to gag and bite gripped her head firmly and rocked it back and forth, speeding up a bit after a few seconds.

Ireland, being tied up, could do nothing but close her eyes tightly and try her hardest not to gag and bite him.

_Would pretending he's someone else make this more pleasurable?_

By now, England was basically slamming into her throat.

_Yes! Yes it would! But who can I pretend it is? I don't really like anyone in that way..._ Ireland thought as tears ran down her face. She was able to hold back the gags, but not really the tears. Stupid reflexes, right?

England made a noise, and Ireland felt something hot and wet explode down her throat in a great abundance.

England pulled out of her mouth, and Ireland started coughing.

England got himself aroused again, then got on top of Ireland, liking her look of fear, and positioned himself at Ireland's entrance.

He laughed darkly, then entered her roughly and began thrusting.

Ire;and found all of this quite painful, as England hadn't given her time to adjust, and how he was basically slamming into her so quickly after entering.

She didn't much like the roughness of it all, and wanted it to stop... But as this was England, her little brother and at this moment her master, she could do absolutely nothing but plead for him to stop.

Somewhere in the middle of their session, England decided he had had enough of Ireland's pleads of "no!" and "stop!", and had placed his hands over her throat, cutting off Ireland's airways.

Ireland, being tired from all of this already, passed out almost a minute after he did so.

England kept his hands on her throat until he orgasmed. He came inside of her, not caring at this moment if she would become impregnated or not, then got dressed and left the room without untiying her.

**/ / /**

**Was this as depressing as I think it was? Sorry, I just wanted to do something like this because... I dunno. I like rape maybe? Does that make me a sadist?! O.O Anyway, what better way to do a rape fic than with England and Ireland, eh? I mean, those two HAD been fueding for quite a while.**

**ANYWAY, here are the translations for Ireland's insults.**

**Bast£n****bastard**

**Bod= dick**

**Pikie= ****a term for a school drop-out, drug dealing, 9 year old raping townie twat**

**okay... Yeah. And here are the choices for the things I have ideas about.**

**1. Italy brothers, Spain, Ireland. Gangbang with bondage.**

**2. Itacest, Italy and Romano get lonely when their boyfriends have to leave on buisness trips.**

**3. Italy brothers and Ireland gangbang with bondage and maybe some sadism.**

**4. Romano and Ireland fluffy smut with some crack at the end.**

**5. Ireland and Northern Ireland incest.**

**6. Hetalia naughty truth or dare, you pick the pairings and the dares! (Or a generator.)**


End file.
